The Making of a Peacock
by Navah
Summary: Gilderoy Lockhart has been stealing hearts and stealing stories for as long as we've known him. How did he get that way? This is the story of the Harry Potter series' sometimes lovable and usually bumbling peacock. From his childhood and years at Hogwarts to his first literary adventures. Let's see what makes the peacock tick.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note: The first three chapters of this fanfic were written in 2006 and 2007. My goal was to make this story plausible in the canonical universe. I did a lot of research to make sure that names and dates matched up where they were supposed to, and in cases where we weren't given exact information, I made educated estimations. One example is for Lockhart's birthday. However, in the years since I originally wrote this story, more information about our beloved characters and their universe has been revealed. In a publication released in 2011, Lockhart's birthday is revealed to be January 26th, which obviously contradicts what I have as May 1st in the next chapter. Please forgive these inconsistencies as they weren't inconsistent when I originally wrote them. In time I may go back and update certain facts, but for now, the writing bug has bitten me, and I wish to continue telling the story I started so many years ago. ~Navah_

* * *

"Where are you off to tonight, Mummy?" the child nervously asked. His mother was known to go out most evenings and leave little Gilderoy home alone.

"Oh sweetie. It's just another ball in the city. You know how I loathe these things." Her silvery voice chuckled as she added a touch of rouge to her porcelain cheeks.

Despite her proclamation, Gilderoy knew his mother loved these affairs. There was an electricity in the air whenever Diana Lockhart was getting ready for an evening on the town. In fact, it was a special time for Gilderoy as well; watching his mother go through her beauty rituals, for he was allowed to participate. Together they would roll their long blond hair, share face creams and anti-wrinkle treatments, and sit together in front of the vanity mirror.

Now Gilderoy was only six and had no need for face creams or wrinkle treatments, but it was the time spent with his mother that he craved. During their fussing and primping, she was his alone. They would chat about nothing of consequence - usually the newest beauty products on the market or the latest gossip about the lady down the street. And throughout these rituals, Diana would gaze fondly at the reflection of her boy in the mirror. His face beamed up at her with pink cream still gobbed on his forehead where it had not been properly smoothed in. His soft hair was messily rolled in the mass of curlers on his head.

"Now Gilderoy, remember how I showed you to properly roll your hair? This certainly isn't it. Shall we try again? One has to always look their best. You never know who just might drop by." She continued her light commentary on the importance of appearance as she unrolled then expertly rerolled Gilderoy's shiny locks.

Her hands were soft, and she smelled like lilacs from the garden. She was beautiful. He had the same shiny golden hair, the same soft blue eyes. She called them "forget-me-not" blue. That sounded suitable to him, so he began referring to his own as that particular shade as well.

"There, all done!" she cried, joy and approval resonating in her girlish laugh. "Gilderoy, this beauty that has been given to us must be treated as a prized possession - for that is what it is. You must take care to always look your very best." A very serious expression crossed her flawless face. "If you do this, the world will be at your feet. You will have every opportunity available to you. Nothing will be denied you."

Gilderoy didn't understand about opportunities or denials, but he did think it was a pretty swimming idea to have the world at his feet. King Gilderoy! Captain of many armies! Lord of the land! Everyone would love him.

A loud honk from the car that had just pulled up to their house pulled Gilderoy from his daydreaming. Diana's face instantly brightened while little Gilderoy's involuntarily darkened. She'd be leaving him now.

"Oh dear, that's my ride! How does Mummy look tonight?" she asked excitedly. She stood up and twirled around allowing her pretty pink dress to swish around her ankles.

"You look beautiful Mummy. You always look beautiful." He recited the words that he'd been saying to her almost every night since he could remember, and although they were true, there was little enthusiasm in them.

"Thank you my love. Now don't you forget the importance of always being beautiful. Remember to exfoliate your hands and feet before you go to bed, and I want to see that your nails have been buffed until they're shining when I return."

"Yes Mummy." He lowered his head as he held back a burning tear. Crying wasn't good for the complexion. It made you all blotchy and turned your eyes red.

"My sweet Gilderoy." she said, cupping his chin with her delicate hand, "I'll be back before you know it. Remember that I love you always. You're my special boy." And with that she bent down to embrace him. Carefully so as not to wrinkle her dress, but still with all the affection that she'd always shown him. He breathed in her lilac scented hair, and when he opened his eyes, she was already out the door.

Gilderoy stood in the empty bedroom for a moment. He traced his fingers along the silver handle of his mother's hair brush. She told him that it had been a gift from her grandmother on her sixteenth birthday. If he continued to take care of his appearance the way she had instructed, then he could look forward to something just as nice on his birthdays to come.

Reluctantly, he pulled his hand away from the brush and headed to the bathroom. He began filling the tub with hot water and sprinkled in a variety of salts and oils as his mother had shown him. He lowered himself into the sweet smelling water, careful to avoid getting his rolled hair wet, and then started scrubbing his already soft feet with the pumice stone.

It didn't take long for the pumice stone to turn into a battle submarine, and soon he was the captain navigating through the murky depths of the ocean. The bar of soap became an elusive giant sea serpent. Just when he thought he had the serpent in his sights, it would slither away only to come back from a different direction and wreak havoc on the little pumice ship. After an exhausting battle, the submarine finally vanquished the serpent, although many lives had been lost. Through his cunning strategy skills he managed to save the day. He would have to tell his mother about his adventures in the morning, just as surely as she would tell him hers from the ball.

As he emerged from the tub, he began to slip, and realized to his utter disappointment that he had succeeded in drenching the entire bathroom. Sighing deeply, he grabbed a towel and started mopping up his mess. It wouldn't do to have Mum discover the bathroom in this state.  
After the bathroom was once again dry, he climbed onto his stool to retrieve the buffing block from the cabinet above the toilet. He caught a glimpse of himself in the still foggy mirror and was horrified to see that his hair was wet and falling out of the curlers. With trepidation he ran back to the vanity and looked frantically into the mirror. He touched his hair with shaky fingertips, and to his utter amazement, the hair seemed to be going back into place on its own. And furthermore, it was now dry and silky soft - just the way Mum had left it.

"How is that possible?" he wondered to himself. It was like... magic. A smile crept along his face as he began buffing his nails. Gilderoy had no idea what had happened, but he was glad it did. After finishing his last little nail, he climbed into his mother's bed. He knew she didn't like him to sleep in there. He had his own bed. But he wanted to be near her, and this was the closest he could get. Besides, she wouldn't remember finding him in her bed in the morning. For some reason, she always forgets.


	2. Letters

The Making of a Peacock

Chapter Two: Letters

1968

A ten-year-old Gilderoy sat at his desk in the middle of his primary school classroom. He was quite a handsome child. His wavy locks were just long enough to curl flirtatiously around his collar, and his long lashes delicately framed his friendly blue eyes. It was no surprise that all the desks immediately round him were occupied by giggling girls from his class. The lesson itself was rather bland, something about multiplying fractions. He took no notice. He was busy reading one of the many secret notes that had made its way to his desk. He recognized the loopy writing as Charlotte's, the girl sitting directly in front of him. He carefully unfolded the note and brushed the edge of the paper against Charlotte's shoulder to let her know he was reading it.

_Gilderoy,_

_I just wanted to let you know that I think your eyes look especially blue today._

_Your friend,_

_Charlotte_

Gilderoy chuckled to himself, and glanced up at the back of Charlotte's head. Her neck was rather red, from obvious embarrassment. He leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "Thanks Charlotte, and might I add how glossy your chestnut locks are today." She started giggling furiously, and Gilderoy grinned to himself as he leaned back in his chair.

"Gilderoy," said Mrs. White, "perhaps you might be so kind as to demonstrate how to properly reduce this fraction."

"Oh, of course, Mrs. White." He slid out of his chair and marched confidently up to the front of the room. In actuality, he had no idea how to reduce the fraction. Well, no need for worry right now, just make it look good. He approached the blackboard and picked up a piece of chalk, and just for a moment, rolled it hesitantly between his fingertips. Suddenly, an idea popped into his head. He smiled and began.

"Now, I simply take this top number and..." He glanced over at Charlotte, and flashed her a brilliant smile. Charlotte's face was still flushed, and she was quite flattered that Gilderoy had shown her attention in front of the entire class.

"You, um..." she began hesitantly, "divide that number and the bottom number by four." She gave a shy little laugh. "So the answer is one fourth." She lowered her lashes at Gilderoy and then darted her eyes toward Mrs. White.

"Quite right Charlotte!" he said. "I'll just mark the answer down right here." And when he was finished with his loopy numbers, he turned to the teacher. "I think this is the correct answer, and what a lovely dress you're wearing, Mrs. White."

Mrs. White smiled sweetly. "Thank you Gilderoy, and you as well, Charlotte. You may take your seat."

Flattery will get you everywhere. His mother had told him that once.

* * *

On the morning of 1 May 1968, Gilderoy awoke with a smile from ear to ear. He was eleven today. He ripped the curlers out of his hair and quickly ran a brush through his waves as he excited himself further by fantasizing about his presents. He threw his robe over his pyjamas and thundered down the stairs to the kitchen.

"My goodness, Gilderoy!" his mother exclaimed, almost spilling her morning cup of tea. Although she was still wearing her silk dressing robe, he was unsurprised to find that her hair and make-up had already been carefully attended to.

"Good morning, Mum!" Gilderoy bounded over to her, and she quickly set her cup down before he threw himself into her arms.

"Well, at least I know you're loathe to hide your emotions!" Diana smiled and embraced her son. "And what reason exactly might you have for being in such a fine disposition this morning?" his mother teasingly said.

"Really, Mum, you can't tell me you've possibly forgotten." He laughed.

Diana put her hand to her chin feigning concentration. "That's right," she said, "it's May Day! How could I have forgotten?" Confusion crossed over Gilderoy's face, and then Diana's face began to contort as she tried to hold back a laugh. "But what makes this day even more special," she continued, "is that this is the day you came to me."

"Yes, of course!" He joined her laughter, then shouted, "It's GILDEROY Day!"

"I've made you a special breakfast, dear. Eat quickly so you can get ready for school. I expect you and your friends to bring home some fine-looking little Maypoles. They'll make perfect decorations for your party tonight."

Gilderoy enthusiastically scarfed down his pecan waffles - which were truly a splendid treat - then ran upstairs to wash and dress for school.

Diana went through the house picking up little odds and ends that had been left out from the previous evening. She hummed to herself as she ran over her plans for Gilderoy's birthday party that evening. She had asked him to invite ten of his classmates from school. Oddly enough, there was going to only be one boy in the lot of them. Well, she could understand. She'd always been more popular with those of the opposite gender as well.

Slowly she made her way back to the kitchen and gathered the dirty breakfast dishes into the sink. She began washing as Gilderoy bounded down the stairs again. He stopped briefly to plant a quick kiss on his mother's cheek and then dashed out the front door.

At that moment, a rather large owl landed on the ledge of the window above the sink and tapped its beak impatiently on the glass. Diana was puzzled and left the dishes to go open the back door. The owl hooted at her and dropped a brown package at her feet. On the top was a tightly rolled piece of paper. She looked inquiringly at the owl as it took off again with a flutter of its wings.  
Diana picked up the parcel and brought it back to the table to finish her tea. She unrolled the paper - well, it wasn't really paper. She supposed it was more like... parchment. That was odd. She lifted her teacup to take a sip.

_Diana,_

_Forgive me for letting the years slip by like this, but I thought it would be better for everyone involved, and most importantly, for our boy, if I stayed away. I know that little Gilderoy will be turning eleven today, and I am grieved that I cannot be there to celebrate with you. But as you can understand, I have a family here, and it would not be prudent for the public to learn of my past indiscretions._

_I trust that you and the boy are not wanting for anything. I have decided to increase my monthly deposits into your account. Gilderoy is getting older and will be needing more expensive things. I've also enclosed a small gift for him. He need not know whom it is from, but I would be very grateful if you allowed him to receive it for his birthday. I hope you are well, Diana. I will always remember our time together._

_Fondly,_

_A._

The teacup slid out of Diana's fingers and crashed to the floor.

* * *

The birthday party that evening was quite spectacular. The children ran round the yard holding their miniature maypoles aloft as the parents enjoyed relaxing conversation in the kitchen over a cup of tea. Diana truly spared no expense with this party. The house was greatly decorated (if not a bit garishly) with ribbons and streamers. There was a large painted banner in the entryway that read_ Happy Birthday Gilderoy!_, a three-tier cake rested proudly on the kitchen table, and there was ice cream thawing in the sink.

After a while, the children entered the house, pink-faced and laughing. They all migrated to the impressive display of presents in the living room.

"Well, I think it's time for presents." Diana sighed with a smile.

The parents joined the children in the living room. It was a tight squeeze, as there were now over twenty people in the room, but Gilderoy relished all the fuss. They were all here for him. To celebrate him. He grinned as he reached for his first present.

He was sufficiently pleased with his gifts. Charlotte had given him a rather nice bottle of shampoo. Her mother was of course mortified when she saw what it was. Charlotte saw her mother's reaction and began to look a bit uncertain herself, but Gilderoy loved it. After all, she did have rather nice hair. It was always in good taste to share effective beauty products with others. The rest of his gifts were more traditional: various toys, books, and the like.

When he reached for his last gift, he was a little dismayed. It was wrapped in brown packaging paper and tied with a string. Surely his friends had more sense than to show up with a gift as dismally wrapped at that. Where was the brightly coloured paper, or the shiny bow? However, not being one to turn a gift away he proceeded to unwrap it. It was clothing by the looks of it.

Excitement bubbled in his stomach. The only thing he liked getting more than beauty products was new clothes! He pulled the cloth fully from the packaging and lay it out in front of him. It was a black velvet cloak. It was... exquisite. He traced his fingers reverently along the black velvet, across the intricate brocade trim, and onto the jade silken lining.

"It's a shame his father couldn't be here tonight," Charlotte's mother said. "Did he have to work late?"

"Oh, um..." Diana stammered a bit, still revelling in the beauty of Gilderoy's new cloak, and was caught off guard by the unexpected question. "No. He... he's not with us anymore." It wasn't really a lie.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry for your loss." Charlotte's mother apologized.

"It's nothing. Shall we have some cake then?" And with that she rose from her chair and headed into the kitchen.

* * *

The weeks and months that followed settled the Lockhart household into its normal humdrum of activity. Gilderoy finished the school year with reasonably good marks - owing of course to Charlotte's exuberance for "helping" Gilderoy with his assignments. Diana returned to her frequent social outings. And things were very comfortable for a time.

In mid-July, Gilderoy was home alone one afternoon as Diana had gone into town to fetch some groceries. He was in the middle of reading one of his favourite stories about King Arthur when a tapping sound caught his attention. He looked up from his book and saw a little brown owl sitting on the ledge of the window just across from him.

"Well, hello little owl," he said. "I'm sorry, but we've no mice for you here." He lowered his eyes to the page once more.

_Tap, tap, tap._

"My, you are a persistent one, aren't you?" Gilderoy smiled and walked over to the window to get a better look. Upon closer inspection, he noticed the owl had an envelope of sorts clutched in its talons. "Wherever did you get that?"

His interest had been sufficiently piqued so he went round to the door and walked outside. He was surprised the bird hadn't flown off as he approached. It just stayed on its perch watching him as he came closer.

"Well, you're a funny little thing, aren't you?" Gilderoy laughed and reached out his hand to pet the owl. It rose up and dropped the letter into Gilderoy's outstretched hand with a hoot. He looked down at the heavy envelope and was surprised to find his name on it. He hardly ever received mail - especially not in such a fashion. Yet here it was:

_Mr. G. Lockhart_  
_51 Lilac Lane_  
_Dandee_  
_Kent_

He hurried into the house and drew out his mother's silver letter opener from her desk. Carefully he slit the envelope open and retrieved the letter inside.

_Dear Mr. Lockhart,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Albus B. P. W. Dumbledore,_  
_Headmaster_

Was it real? Oh, what an adventure this would be! He would be going to a new school, and meeting new people. He looked over the list of required materials and found them rather odd. Well, if this was a joke, it was a smashing good one. He'd play along. After all, what if it wasn't a joke? Maybe he'd even get to meet Merlin from his beloved Arthur stories!

He looked out the window and saw the owl still perched on the window ledge. Mr. Dumbledore was awaiting his owl. Was this his owl? He ran back outside.

"Well, if you're my owl, then I think you ought to have a name. I think I'll call you Gawain. Yes, that seems fitting. Serve me well, Gawain, and off you go!"

The owl stared back at him and didn't move.

"What are you waiting for, Gawain? Get a move on! Your master has sent you on an important mission. You must fly far and wide to deliver a most important message!"

If the owl could have rolled its eyes, it would have. Instead it stretched out its leg toward Gilderoy. He was confused for a moment until he saw a little thong of leather tied round the owl's leg.

"Oh!" Gilderoy laughed. "I guess you'll be needing me to write a message to send with you?"  
The owl flapped its wings.

"Well, all right then. Wait here." He rushed back to the desk and pulled out a fresh piece of paper. He stood there for a moment wondering what he should write. When he finally decided, he wrote in a loopy, flamboyant script:

_Mr. Gilderoy Lockhart accepts your invitation._

Bringing his reply outside, the owl once again offered its leg to Gilderoy. With some finagling he managed to stuff the paper in quite securely, and watched with delight as the owl flew away.

Later that day when his mother came home he eagerly picked up his letter and brought it to her.  
"Mum, I've had a letter today," he said as he handed it to her.

"Oh really, darling. That's nice," she replied absently as she began putting away groceries with one hand and took his letter in the other. The feel of the thick parchment caused her to stop what she was doing. Her full attention turned to the letter.

"They want_ me_ to attend their special school," he proudly stated, "and I said I'd go."


	3. Diagon Alley

The Making of a Peacock

Chapter Three: Diagon Alley

"Gilderoy," Diana began, "I really don't think you should get your hopes up about this new school. Everyone knows there's no such thing as magic." She was being as kind and gentle as possible. She loved when her son was excited about something, but there was a difference between living in the real world versus a dream world.

It was mid-August, and Gilderoy had almost an entire month to fantasize about all the wonderful things in store for him. Not a day went by where he didn't talk incessantly about the exclusive school, or all the neat magic tricks he'd be learning. He wore his cloak around the house all the time even though it was the middle of the summer. After all, it seemed fitting wizard attire, and he dove into his King Arthur books with even more fervour than before.

"I mean, just look at the list of supplies," Diana continued. "Where are you supposed to get a cauldron or a wand? We've been to every bookstore in London, and no one has even heard of_ The Standard Book of Spells_. Honey, I just don't want you to be disappointed."

"I won't be. I know it. I_ know_ it, Mum." He had never shared with her the incident a few years back when he made his hair re-roll on its own. He knew he was special. His mother had always told him so, but he knew it went deeper than that.

"All right, dear," she said, sighing. "I'm off to bed then. You should go too. Nothing rejuvenates the skin like a good night's sleep."

"Yes, I'm going," he replied. But when he got to his room, he sat down at his desk and took out a fresh piece of paper and a pen. He began drawing a man with a tall, pointy hat. He was clothed in long, flowing robes with stars and half moons on them. In his hand he held a wand, and there was an owl perched on his shoulder. He wrote at the bottom: Gilderoy Lockhart, Magician. He placed the drawing under his pillow, and began his night-time beauty rituals in preparation for bed.

* * *

In the morning, he was awoken by voices downstairs.

"I'm terribly sorry I've arrived so late in the summer holidays," said a curt woman's voice with a slight Scottish accent. This piqued Gilderoy's interest so he quietly got out of bed and tiptoed to the top of the staircase to listen.

"Oh, that's quite all right," said Diana as she finished tying her house-robe closed. True to character, she was completely breathtaking - even at such an early hour. "I'm sorry, but I'm not quite sure I understand the nature of your visit," she said as she began filling the tea kettle.

"I'm Professor Minerva McGonagall. I'll be teaching Gilderoy at Hogwarts this year," the other woman stated very frankly.

"Excuse me?" It was a good thing the tea kettle was already sitting in the sink, as Diana probably would have dropped it.

"We Owled his admittance letter a few weeks ago, and received his acceptance that same day. We just assumed that everything would be taken care of in the normal fashion..."

"So, this school of yours is..._ real_?" Diana interrupted.

"Of course it's real!" Professor McGonagall replied. "You see, this is why I've come today. When a child comes from a magical family, there is no need for a personal visit before the start of term. Since Gilderoy's father is a Wizard, we assumed he would know all about the magical world."

Diana sat down. "I'm sorry, he's a... _Wizard_?" She glanced up the stairs, and Gilderoy quickly hid out of sight.

"Well, of course! How could he not be? His family line can be traced back ages in the Wizarding world!"

Diana just sat there, too stunned for words.

Professor McGonagall hesitantly continued, "Which is why we realized there might be the possibility of his absence in your household. He currently has another child enrolled in our school...well, that's neither here nor there..."

"Does everyone know who Gilderoy's father is?" Diana looked terrified.

"No." The professor placed a gentle hand on Diana's. "No one knows except myself and the Headmaster. Now," she continued, straightening up, "my purpose in coming today is to escort you to Diagon Alley to purchase Gilderoy's school supplies, and also to give him his train ticket for the Hogwarts Express."

They continued their conversation as Gilderoy crept silently back to his bedroom and closed the door. His father. They had spoken about his father. He didn't know anything about him; that was definitely one subject his mother did not like to discuss, so he never brought it up. His father was a Wizard, and he had another family. A mixture of emotions flooded through Gilderoy. Of course, he was ecstatic that he really would be going to a new, magical school. He was thrilled that his father really was out there somewhere, but he was also deeply saddened. Why had he always stayed away? Why had he abandoned him for this other boy? Why didn't he love him?

He opened the drawer of his nightstand and shuffled through the assortment of odds and ends until his fingers closed around a small metal object. He brought it out and sat on his bed. It was an old skeleton key. He couldn't remember when he'd gotten it. As far as he knew he'd always had it. It had once belonged to his father, that much he knew.

A few minutes later, there was a slight knock on his bedroom door.

"Gilderoy, dear." Diana's voice sounded oddly timid. She cracked the door open and peered inside to find Gilderoy sitting on his unmade bed. "It seems you were right." She smiled as she walked over and sat down beside him. She lovingly placed her delicate hands on her son's. "Professor McGonagall is here from your new school. She's to take us to buy your school supplies today."  
Gilderoy looked up at her with his sorrowful eyes. He was never very good at hiding his emotions.  
"Oh, my handsome little man, what's the matter? I thought you'd be excited," she said, concern spreading across her face. She caught a glimpse of the old key in his hands, and a bit of anxiety joined her concerned expression.

"It's nothing, Mum," he replied. He pushed down his sad feelings regarding his father into the very depths of his heart and managed a smile. "I am excited. Let's go get my school things, shall we?"  
Diana enveloped her son in a warm hug, and then headed out the door. Gilderoy got up and went into the bathroom to prepare for the day ahead. He looked at his reflection in the mirror and smiled to himself.

It was going to be an extraordinary day.

* * *

A short while later, the three of them were on the train headed into the heart of London. Minerva was quite uncomfortable as she wasn't used to travelling in such a fashion, but decided that it was probably better this way. It would enable Diana to find the entrance to Diagon Alley on her own in the years to come since she wouldn't be able to get there in the usual way. However, she still tensely gripped the coin in her pocket that she had intended on using as a Portkey. The whizzing landscape was making her nervous and a bit nauseous. She pulled a small bottle from her robes, uncorked it, and downed the entire contents. Thank goodness Horace had insisted on sending her with a relaxation potion. You never know what you're going to encounter when you enter the world of Muggles, he had said. Too right.

Throughout the journey, Minerva explained to Gilderoy and Diana a little of the history of Hogwarts and the magical world. Gilderoy seemed fascinated by it all, and asked endless questions, particularly concerning Transfiguration when she told him that was the subject she taught. He was certainly a precocious child, and was rather handsome as well. Of course, it would be impossible for him not to be handsome, what with his pedigree. Yes, she thought, he would do quite well at Hogwarts.

After meandering through the streets of London and coaxing a rather reluctant Diana into the Leaky Cauldron, the three found themselves, finally, at the entrance to Diagon Alley. Gilderoy was enthralled by the magic he felt reverberating in the air. He soaked up his surroundings. There were people everywhere bustling about wearing robes and pointed hats of all colours. Suddenly, Diana and Gilderoy felt very out of place with their own manner of dress. There were joke shops, ice cream parlours, and clothing stores! Gilderoy wanted to investigate every single one of them.

"Right, then," stated Professor McGonagall. "I think we'd best begin at Gringotts. After all, you can't buy anything without any money, can you?" She firmly gripped Gilderoy's shoulder and guided him towards a very imposing building towards the end of the street. When they entered, Diana gasped audibly. Gilderoy's eyes grew wider as he stared at the many small creatures going about their business in the vast lobby.

"What are those things?" asked Gilderoy.

"They're goblins, Gilderoy. They run Gringotts, which is perhaps the safest bank in all of Britain. And you'd do well not to stare."

Gilderoy looked down sheepishly as the three of them approached the nearest empty counter.  
"Now, I trust you've brought your key," Minerva said to Gilderoy. He looked a bit confused, but then remembered the skeleton key he'd slipped into his pocket earlier.

"Well, I've got a key, but I don't know if it's the right one," Gilderoy said as he pulled it out of his pocket.

"Yes, I think that will do," she said taking the key from him. She turned to the goblin on the other side of the counter. "Gilderoy Lockhart will be needing to make a withdrawal. Here is his key. I think you will find everything in order."

Gilderoy and Diana were both very excited to see the first shop they were headed for:_ Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions_. They were going to be buying clothes!

"Now Gilderoy, why don't you run into Madam Malkin's and get fitted for your school robes. Your mother and I will go to purchase your books."

"Actually, Professor," Diana began, trying to tear her eyes away from the front window of the robe shop, "I'd prefer to stay with my son while he's being properly fitted." Her eyes darted to the cobblestones at her feet at she tried (unsuccessfully) to not blush.

"Very well. I will meet you back here when I am finished." She turned on her heel and started toward the bookstore, rolling her eyes and smiling as she went.

Diana and Gilderoy exchanged knowing glances and hurriedly made their way into the shop. Gilderoy was amazed at the richness of the fabrics lining the walls. His mother inhaled deeply, and started putting together Gilderoy's new wardrobe in her mind.

An older woman entered from the back room and smiled as she set down a pile of various fabrics. "I expect you're here for your Hogwarts robes then? Just hop right up on the stool, and I'll measure you up, quick as you please." She pulled her wand out from her own robe and began waving it in slow, circular patterns all around Gilderoy.

Diana walked across the room to give the beautiful fabrics a bit of a closer inspection.

"Mmm...right then," Madame Malkin said as she finished up her measuring. "If you'll return in half an hour, I'll have your robes ready for you." She turned back to her abandoned pile of fabrics intending to resume her work.

"Excuse me, ma'am," Diana interjected, "but we haven't even picked out material or decided on a style."

Madame Malkin laughed. "This'll be your first one at Hogwarts, I expect. My dear, all the students wear the same style of robe, and they're all made from the same black material."

Diana looked horrified._ Her son! Wearing all black!_

Gilderoy looked horrified. _Him! Wearing all black!_

Madame Malkin noticed the identical expressions of terror on their faces - it would be hard not to.

"Don't worry yourselves," she said, smiling. "In a few years' time this young man will have to outfit himself for the seasonal Yule Ball. Come back then, and I'll fix you up with something right nice."

Diana and Gilderoy left the shop with their dampened spirits only slightly lifted.

Professor McGonagall met them outside with a cauldron full of books at her feet.

"I believe we still need to get you a wand." She started heading down the street, and the Lockharts quickly followed. "I'll take you over to Ollivander's, and then I must return to Hogwarts. When you've finished for the day, just go back to the Leaky Cauldron. Tom will give you a feathered quill that I've left with him. It is a Portkey. That means when you touch it, it will take you back to your house in Dandee. Unless of course, you prefer another ride on the train."

They soon found themselves standing at the entrance of Ollivanders wand store.

"All right then," said Professor McGonagall. "I'll take my leave of you now. It has been a pleasure meeting both of you, and I look forward to seeing you at school in a few weeks, Gilderoy. Here is your ticket for the school train. Keep it in a safe place. The train leaves exactly at eleven o'clock from King's Cross Station, so budget your time accordingly. The Head Boy and Girl will be there to meet you and help you with your things. Good day." Professor McGonagall turned sharply on her heel in her endearingly concise way, and with a _pop_, she was gone.

Diana was quite taken aback, but Gilderoy wasn't as affected. After all, his imagination was much larger than Diana's. And being a child, his ideas of normalcy weren't quite as ingrained as hers. He opened the shop door and led his mother inside.

It was rather dusty and a bit dark inside the shop. Gilderoy was careful not to accidentally brush anything so he didn't coat himself in dust. One thing he noticed about the Wizarding world is that they generally weren't as concerned with keeping things clean. An older gentleman with kind eyes looked up from his desk when he heard the door chimes.

"Hogwarts, I presume?"

"Yes," Gilderoy replied importantly. "My name is Gilderoy Lockhart, and I'll be needing a wand to further my studies as a great magician."

Ollivander chuckled to himself. "Well, Mr. Lockhart, let's see what we've got here for you. Lockhart, Lockhart... I don't recall ever hearing that name before. You must be Muggleborn, am I right?"

The Lockharts both had puzzled looks on their faces.

"Just as I thought," Ollivander said to himself. Then he addressed Diana, "You are not a witch?"

"I most certainly am not!" she exclaimed indignantly. "Although," she added, "some of the more jealous women in my social circle might like to imply that I am." She chuckled a bit at her own joke.  
Now it was Ollivander's turn to look puzzled, but he proceeded to bring out his measuring tape and let it get to work on Gilderoy.

"More measuring?" asked Gilderoy. He was feigning exasperation, but truly he loved being doted on. This was turning out to be a wonderful day - well, apart from the whole black robe issue.

"Oh yes," replied the older man. "We want to make sure you're fitted with the perfect wand. Now, let's see here..." He mumbled to himself as he started pulling out various boxes from the overloaded shelves behind his desk. "Why don't we try this one?" he said as he handed Gilderoy a thick, black wand.

Gilderoy eagerly snatched the wand out of Ollivander's hand and began flamboyantly waving it around.

"I quite like this one. Thank you," Gilderoy said.

"Wait, boy! It needs to do something. You can't just pick a wand because you like how it looks. No, this one is all wrong for you. Let's try another."

And they did try another, and another, and another. Nothing happened with any of them. After two hours, it seemed like they had tried almost every wand in the shop. Ollivander was secretly thinking that this Gilderoy was probably not magical. Even if he had received a letter of acceptance to Hogwarts, Dumbledore wasn't infallible. Perhaps he had just made a mistake. After all, the parents were Muggles. It was most likely that this poor little boy was one as well.

In desperation, Ollivander headed into his back room to retrieve the wand he never thought he would sell. He found it years ago in the south of France when he was on holiday. He knew it wouldn't be a very good wand to work with - he certainly would never have made anything like it. It was more aesthetically pleasing than anything else.

Willow, with an inset of rosewood, ten inches, and a core of Veela hair.

There were a number of things wrong with that wand. First of all, the wood should be solid, not inset with anything; it made the magic coming out of it weaker and less predictable. Furthermore, Veela hair was probably one of the worst wand cores you could use; it made for a very temperamental and difficult-to-use wand. However, with no other options, he delicately picked up the new box that housed the old, discarded wand, and brought it back into the front room.

Gilderoy's eyes grew as big as saucers when Ollivander lifted the wand out of its box.

"It's lovely," Diana breathed.

Gilderoy fingered it lightly and then picked it up. Immediately, the wand started vibrating, and he had to grasp it with both hands to keep it from flying out of his grip.

"I think we've found it." Ollivander sighed with relief.

"How much do I owe you?" asked Gilderoy still staring at his wand, unable to hide the joy he felt.

"Nothing, dear boy. I cannot take money for a wand I did not make. You be careful with that, now," he admonished as he returned to the back room for a much-needed shot of Firewhiskey.

As they headed back into the street, they talked animatedly about the day's events, and were deciding where they should go next. Caught up in their conversation, neither was paying as much attention to their surroundings as they should have been. Suddenly, Gilderoy collided with something and fell unceremoniously backward onto the ground. He looked up to see another boy on the ground in front of him. He was a few years older with long white-blond hair. He would've actually been very good-looking had it not been for the ugly scowl he was currently wearing.

"I'm so sorry!" Gilderoy apologized as he scrambled to get up. "Here, let me help you." He offered his hand to the older boy.

"Don't touch me!" the boy snarled as he hoisted himself up and brushed his robes off. "By the look of your clothes, you're a filthy Mudblood. I wouldn't want to become infected." He smoothed his hair down and started stalking off.

Gilderoy was shocked and darted his eyes over to the man who had been next to the boy. The man was staring transfixed at his mother. And she, likewise, was staring back, equally transfixed.

"Mum?" Gilderoy touched his mother's arm, but didn't take his eyes off the man. Then, the man turned his gaze upon Gilderoy.

"Father, are you coming?" the other boy sneered impatiently.

"Yes..." The man faltered a minute more. "Yes, Lucius. I'm coming." Then he turned and walked away.


End file.
